Brother of the Desert Rats

Beginnings of a New Life

Author's Note: My apologies for taking so long with this update. I have had a lot going on in my life, so it took a bit to pick up this story again. But I am really excited to be back into it again!

Zaelan was woken abruptly by someone shaking his shoulder. Sharp pangs of agony shot across his entire torso and down through his arms. He gasped, drawing away from their touch. Looking up, he saw the young guard standing over him.

"Your master asks for you," the guard explained in a quiet voice.

Zaelan gave a slight nod, rising unsteadily to his feet. His legs felt weak, but before he could collapse back onto the bench, the young guard grabbed his arm, steadying him. For a moment, the two stared at each other. It wasn't an unfriendly stare, but it wasn't exactly a friendly one either. There was a mixture of bitterness, curiosity, sorrow, and perhaps even a hint of understanding and sympathy in their gazes.
Then the guard released him, his hand falling back to his side. Turning, he walked slowly out of the tent, gesturing for Zaelan to follow. Outside, he pointed to a water trough.

"Wash up and refresh yourself."

As Zaelan moved slowly to the trough, the guard leaned back, watching him. Zaelan whimpered slightly as he carefully knelt, his hands gripping on the trough's edge. It was as though his wounds were punishing him for even the slightest movements. Cupping up the water in his shaking hands, he began to wash his face. It hurt as much as it refreshed him. As it splashed up against his branded forehead, tears sprang to his eyes and the memories flashed to his mind.

"No please. Don't do it. Please." He struggled in his captors hold, his face twisted with fear. The guards grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head back. A red hot iron loomed before him. Screaming before it had even touched his skin, Zaelan squeezed his eyes shut. The agonizing pain, the sizzling hiss and the stench of burning flesh was burned forever into his mind, just as the symbol of a slave was burned forever to his skin.

Collapsing forward against the trough, Zaelan let out a shuddering breath, his fingers twisted into his hair. The guard studied him for a moment, pity written plainly upon his face. Then with a gentle sigh, he came to stand over him. Saying nothing, he helped Zaelan remove his bloodstained tattered shirt. The bandage too, was removed. Then picking up a cloth that had been laid near by, he dipped it into the cool water, before gently patting it over Zaelan's skin.
Zaelan closed his eyes, his mind drifting once more into the past.

"Will it always be like this, Zarek?" He had asked, lying on his bed as his young friend gently applied an ointment to his back.

Zarek had laughed lightly."Maybe you just need to stay out of trouble."

Zaelan smiled at his words. "What and not protect you anymore?" He regreted the words even as they left his mouth.

Zarek had paused, a bitter look falling across his face. "I never asked you to."

Zaelan shrugged, regretting the movement as it pulled against his welted back. "You know they are lighter on me because of my father."

Zarek began to occupy himself again. "Because a fatherless child has no one to complain to, you mean." Then was a painful bitterness to his words. For a moment there was silence. Then as if he regretted his words and knew they had hurt Zaelan, he dropped the cloth and leaned forward, wrapping his arms about Zaelan, careful that his chest did not touch his friend's back. "No matter what, Zae. I will always be here to bind your wounds and care for you. I promise."

But that promise had been broken. It was not Zarek who bound his back with quick experienced fingers. It was a stranger who cared for him now. Finishing up, the young guard stepped back. Handing Zaelan a clean but well worn shirt, he spoke.